


Envy

by Sulktora



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1949706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulktora/pseuds/Sulktora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Envy is the bane of anyone, and dangerous for everyone else when it effects a certain SIC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Envy

**Author's Note:**

> Was a Challenge entry for Princess-of-Queens: The Starscream Challenge.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own transformers. Only the Plot of the story.
> 
> Big thanks to LadyAnatar, for being my Beta.

oOoOoOo

 

Starscream was absolutely livid.

 

Of course, many events had piled on top of each other for him to have reached this point, all of them steamrolling into him one right after another; sometimes literally.  However, reach this point he had, and his personal green-opticked monster was rearing its ugly helm at last.

 

“First it was that backstabbing femme, Airachnid.  _Then_ Optimus Prime, or Orion Pax, whichever, and _now_ it’s Shockwave and his cursed pet beast!” Starscream fumed whist heading towards the medbay.  Thanks to the aforementioned beast whacking him across the main deck with its tail, he now required repairs from their resident medic.

 

 “Ah, Commander Starscream. I was wondering when you’d show up,” Knockout greeted with a teasing smirk on his face.

 

“Shut up!” Starscream snarled.  The violent reply made Knockout’s smirk disappear instantly, and he quietly grabbed his tools to start repairing the Air Commander.

 

Starscream lay down on the med-berth and let Knockout do his job, not bothering to do much other than sit and let his already formidable anger build.

 

Knockout noticed Starscream’s seemingly quiet state, but he easily felt the seeker’s EM field pulsing in anger and frustration.  The medic knew better than to taunt Starscream at this time, for the simple reason that he would probably scrap the smaller mech.  “Want to talk about it?” Knockout asked carefully.

 

“NO,” Starscream hissed.  He did not want to vent; he did not want to try to feel better, because it would not matter.  He being happy did not matter, not to anyone; not even to Knockout, who was the one giving him the chance to vent.  The medic was merely humoring him, and by the Pit, Starscream was sick of being considered a burden.  He more than pulled his own weight, but no one ever cared or noticed, not even his own troops.

 

“You sure?” Knockout tentatively inquired.  He still felt nervous, since the anger he felt in Starscream’s field had spiked even more.

 

“Don’t pretend that you care, _medic_ ; just do your job,” Starscream warned, a dangerous look in his optics.

 

At the icy tone Starscream used, a shudder of fear snaked down Knockout’s spinal strut.  “Yes, sir,” he answered in a small voice. 

 

Soon, Starscream’s repairs were finished.  With only a growl of thanks, Starscream left the medbay, still angry.

 

Not worrying about his lack of reward, Knockout thought for a moment about why Starscrream was so… well, in human terms, ‘ticked off.’  Normally, he came to the medic partially to vent, but this time, it seemed as if the seeker _wanted_ to stay angry.  Unfortunately, an upset seeker was not a good thing at all, and never had been.  Seekers could, and would, tear someone apart if angry enough; Knockout had seen it happen.  It was a horrible way to go, and the only thing worse was to watch an entire trine or flight scrap a single bot, regardless of that bot’s size.  Alone, an enraged seeker could cause massive amounts of damage, and it was almost impossible to calm any seeker down once they had become furious.  Obviously, someone more talented and experienced than a mere medic was needed.

 

“Lord Megatron,” Knockout commed.

 

“What is it, Knockout?” Megatron asked in his typical gravelly voice.

 

“Ah, I think there is a problem with Commander Starscream, sir.  I also think that it is beyond my skills to… assist in,” Knockout edged delicately, trying to not flat-out say that Starscream was in a bad mood.  Being so uncouth in telling Megatron without Starscream’s approval made the likelihood of getting scrapped later that much more likely.

 

“And?” Megatron said more than asked, wanting to know why he was being told this.

 

Knockout weighed his options and decided to say it bluntly.  _Frag it._ “My Lord, I do not wish to become a pile of scrap.  I believe that you are better suited to dealing with him in this temper than I am,” Knockout answered.

 

Of course, this explanation only confused Megatron, who wondered why Knockout was afraid of being scrapped by _Starscream_ of all mechs.  “Explain, Knockout,” he demanded.

 

Knockout nearly wanted to cry.  This seemed ridiculous, his being afraid of a seeker; specifically, the seeker whom their leader routinely used as a punching bag.  However, Starscream was also Second in Command, and he did not earn that position just because of his pretty frame.  “Starscream came in for repairs, and his… EM field was highly, violently agitated.  Additionally, he refused any… treatment for it,” Knockout replied carefully, trying to make it sound like a medical problem.

 

“So essentially, Starscream is ‘royally pissed off.’  Am I correct to assume that this is the case, Knockout?” Megatron stated frankly, hitting the nail on the head.

 

“Yes, my liege,” Knockout said in defeat.  Oh, well.  He’d had a nice life while it lasted.

 

“I see.  Thank you for the information; I will deal with it shortly,” Megatron responded before quickly cutting the com line and leaving his medic confused by the last statement.

 

oOoOoOo

 

“Fragging wench!!!” Starscream roared in the empty training rooms, punching his claws through a training dummy.

 

Fortunately, he had the room to himself; the entire group of troops that had been in there before his arrival had basically bolted when they felt the anger emanating from Starscream’s EM field.  The _last_ time he had been this agitated, he had scrapped a few troops and Autobot Cliffjumper.

 

“Suck up, one-opticked FREAK!” Starscream yelled, aiming a brutal kick from his heeled pede into the dummy’s head and snapping it clean off.

 

“Filthy, ugly, winged beast!” he screeched, firing his rockets and guns into another dummy and obliterating it.  As the pieces stopped clattering on the floor, only Starscream’s heavy intakes of air filled the training room.

 

While he cooled off physically, he continued to fume.  _It’s not fair; first that femme whore, then that one-opticked monstrosity, and then the forsaken beast with the most ugly wings imaginable._

 

Of course, he envied the three, and for many different reasons; all of which connected to Megatron.  It was well-known that Megatron preferred femmes over mechs; he like their frames, and who didn’t?  Even Starscream appreciated such frames, but Megatron also liked frames that were delicate and preferably small.  He also liked fliers because of their wings, or perhaps simply because they _could_ fly, as well as their intelligence.

 

So Starscream hated Airachnid, because she was a femme, able to fly, and in a way, a tad bigger than him.  Of course, she was on ice now, but he still hated her; her backstabbing was only the metaphorical topper on the oil cake.  After all, she had tried to seduce Megatron and had dared to use him, Starscream, as a scapegoat to gain favor from their lord.

 

Now Shockwave, oh, his anger for _that_ mech went back as far as the beginning of the Decepticon army.  It was not a secret that the scientist was a valve mech, and Starscream would swear that the purple mech gained Megatron’s favor more from spreading his legs than by his intellectual and logic-based mind.  Also, his return was irritating and annoying with how easily he retook Megatron’s good graces, simply by stepping into the same room.

 

Then there was that beast, that forsaken Predacon that did not obey Starscream’s orders and kept scrapping him every day.  That thing was a brute animal, and they had the gall to force him to try and train and command it?  It did not obey him no matter what he tried.  He even stooped so low as to once, and only once, try to be nice to it. 

 

That idea went up in smoke.  Literally.  Apparently, the damned thing did not know that wing care was a form of compassion from seekers, and that assistance in cleaning or buffing was a kindness rarely shown. 

 

On top of all that, Megatron was treating it as a pet and _congratulating_ it for mauling him every slagging day with a pat on the head.

 

Why Starscream envied Predacon was because of a simple and easy fact: it could fly.

 

Put plainly, it dominated the skies that Starscream claimed as his own, since he was the best flier alive (unlike some assumed, even Megatron could not match him in flight), with its sheer, physical presence.  Starscream hated its wings too.  Yes, they were impressively big and colorful, but he hated them for giving the stupid brute the ability to claim _his_ rightful space in the skies.

 

Snarling at the one remaining dummy, Starscream lunged at it, summoned up a strength unknown to him, and then pulled the thing from its base, tore it in two, and threw the pieces to the far ends of the training room.  When the feat was but a memory, he let out a wordless roar of frustration and ex-vented harshly, his EM field pulsing like mad.

 

“It seems that your condition was not overly exaggerated.”

 

At the unexpected voice behind him, Starscream spun on his thrusters and angled his wings in an extremely aggressive posture.  Seeing Megatron in the doorway, the seeker simply glared, not even bothering to respond.  He was still ticked, and here stood another that he envied.  Though not as he envied the others, and not as he once did, not anymore…  However, the fact remained that Megatron, unwittingly or not, was the one who had singlehandedly started this mess and caused all of Starscream’s frustration to boil over.

 

Straightening himself up, he stomped towards the door.  Megatron grabbed his wrist, providing the trigger that set Starscream on _him_.  Instantly, claws shoved in-between a tiny gap in Megatron’s armor and ripped through a few lesser energon lines and sensitive nerve clusters.  The warlord grunted at the assault, slightly regretting grabbing Starscream in the first place; his claws did hurt if used correctly, such as in this case.

 

Starscream yanked his claws back just as quickly, tearing off a piece of armor in the process.  Megatron let go of the wrist and half-staggered away from the seeker, holding his side reflexively.  “Leave me alone,” Starscream spat and threw the piece of armor onto the floor in front of the tyrant.

 

As he turned to leave, Megatron asked, “What’s wrong, soldier?”

 

When the words registered, Starscream’s optics widened.  The last time that Megatron had called him that, it had been a term of endearment, long ago, before things took a turn for the worse during the war.  “Don’t you dare call me that,” Starscream snapped, spinning back to face the now-composed Megatron.

 

“Seeker, explain why you have attacked me,” Megatron demanded.

 

Starscream just glared at him.  “No, I don’t think I will.  Besides, it wouldn’t matter even if I did,” Starscream hissed.

 

Megatron raised an optic-ridge at him, noticing the tell-tale twitch in Starscream’s wings.  In a way, it was amusing how easy it was to read those wings.  “Starscream,” he rumbled in a possessive growl, approaching the other.  “My soldier, my little seeker.” 

 

The way he spoke caused shivers to wrack Starscream’s petite frame.  “Come here,” Megatron commanded.  Starscream franticly shook his helm; no, he really did not want to obey.

 

“Now,” Megatron growled.

 

Starscream had an internal struggle: should he run or obey?  Running meant that he could still resume his silent anger.  If he obeyed, however, he could get what he wanted; what he had envied the others for possibly, probably, having. 

 

Finally, he gave in and obeyed the command, stepping close enough to be within reaching distance of Megatron’s fingertips.

 

“Closer, Starscream.”  Gritting his dentas, the seeker did as commanded, his EM fields clearly radiating his agitation.  Megatron effortlessly felt that with his own EM field; oh, Starscream was nearly livid.  “Now, tell me why the sudden aggression,” Megatron ordered.

 

“It is nothing, my lord,” Starscream ground out.

 

“Tearing the training room into scrap was caused by ‘nothing’?” Megatron questioned, not believing it for a second.  “Starscream,” Megatron began, only for Starscream to explode into anger once more.

 

“Oh, why don’t you go frag that mono-opticked freak or praise that horrible beast of his!  Or do that whore of a femme!”  As soon as the words burst out, Starscream backed away, holding a servo over his mouth and staring at Megatron in utter shock.

 

Megatron was stunned; Starscream was jealous.

 

Oh, that would certainly send any seeker into a frenzy of rage.  It also made complete sense, since Megatron had been neglecting his Second in Command.  With no positive reinforcement, of _course_ Starscream would become angry and aggressive.  Admittedly, he had not earned any rewards or positive feedback, but he had been trying, as opposed to attempts in the past to backstab his leader.

 

Slowly, a devilish smile crawled across Megatron’s face.  “It seems that I have neglected you, my second,” the large mech purred.  Starscream scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to be pacified.  Megatron chuckled before expertly snagging the seeker, hoisting him up over his shoulder, and striding towards the door.

 

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF PRIMUS ARE YOU DOING?!  PUT ME DOWN!” Starscream screeched in panic.

 

“I am acknowledging you on your efforts, Starscream,” Megatron answered in amusement.

 

“What?!” Starscream yelped, flustered.

 

“Now, now, Starscream, don’t let that jealousy of yours ruin the evening for both of us.”  Starscream just gaped at the slag-eating grin now firmly fixed on the tyrant’s face and struggled a bit more, which was pretty much futile; the fragger had a good grip.

 

Though he didn’t really feel like struggling much by the time Megatron finally reached his sleeping quarters.  Soon after that, Starscream’s envy and anger had turned to lust, and Megatron assured his favorite seeker that he was very, very pleased with recent efforts.

 

oOoOoOo

 

By the next afternoon, absolutely everyone was wondering what had happened in the training room.

 

And why Starscream was actually smiling for once.

 

And why their Lord seemed more relaxed and passive than usual.

 

And, of course, why Knockout looked petrified whenever Starscream happened to be around.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to LadyAnatar, for being my Beta.


End file.
